


Shooting Stars

by loracarol



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Introspection, on age and aging, only the good die young
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 06:15:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14206893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loracarol/pseuds/loracarol
Summary: A drabble based onthislovely piece of art by purpleorange on tumblr.





	Shooting Stars

The first time Hector sees Imelda in the land of the dead, he thinks she’s only grown more lovely; streaks of starlight in her hair and the knowledge that whatever else happened, she had  _lived_. He would always be grateful for that, for that knowledge that his  _querida_  had had a long (and happy?) life, despite everything. 

He can't even be too hurt by her rejection. After all, he deserves it. 

\---

Living in the shanties, he was surrounded by reminders of age; the youngest death out of all of them, he couldn’t help his stabs of envy at their jokes about pre-death aches, at the way his own brown wig stood out among a sea of silver. 

He feels a child among them, even as the decades go on. Even when he starts to be - technically - older then the newest members of his  _familia_. 

He wonders if that’s what Imelda sees when she looks at him. 

\---

He may have died young, but years of being Forgotten take their toll, and he jokes that he understands the aches of old age; the pain of  _time_. They aren’t funny jokes, but that’s how it works in the shanties. If you can’t laugh, you’re going to cry, and Hector  _knows_  that once he lets the despair take him, he’ll drown.

\---

He meets a lot of artists through Ceci and Frida. He is never once tempted to see if one of the  _artistas_ would mind sketching what he could have looked like, if he hadn’t died of  ~~food~~  poisoning. If he’d have lived to see Imelda’s  _zapato_  brand bring greater fortune to the family than he ever could. If had lived to see Coco’s quinceañera, and her wedding. If he had lived long enough to be an  _abuelo._

He had his photo, and some of them were  _very_ skilled.  

\---

He is never  _once_  tempted. 

\---

He does “borrow” an aged wig from Ceci once, just to see what he could have looked like. 

He wakes up the next morning smelling like rum and regrets. 

\---

His relationship with Imelda starts off slow, after everything goes down. They’ve both changed too much for things to go back to the way that they were,  _if_  that’s even what they both want. 

She’s still as beautiful as the day that they met. He doesn’t care - has never cared - that she grew old. He just wishes that they could have grown old  _together_. 

\---

Sometimes they just sit close together, not doing anything but enjoying the feeling that they’re  _not alone_  anymore. Sometimes she even deigns to take her hair down, like when they were married. He runs his hands through her hair, marveling at the texture, at the color. She mistakes his wonder as judgement, as confusion, as the gulf between Who They Were and Who They Are. 

“I got old,” she says, almost shy, one night when Hector brushes his hands through the silver streaks. 

“ _Estrella_ ,” he whispers, jealousy burning in him like starlight. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you see any errors/have any suggestions - I haven't really written fic in A While and I genuinely appreciate concrit, either here or [at my tumblr.](http://loracarol.tumblr.com/) (Anon is on.) 
> 
> I know literally zero Spanish except what I've gleaned from The Book of Life/Coco, so if there are any errors in that, please feel free to let me know as well! 
> 
> If you recognized it then yes, that was an intentional Doctor Who reference.


End file.
